The Reaction to the Reprieve
by TheSpectrumSings
Summary: Sequel to my one-shot 'His Last Farewell', in which Sherlock say good-bye to Molly, before his exile. Now Sherlock knows he is back, due to Moriarty's return, he has to tell Molly that he will not be leaving for good after all, and has to explain his words from before. Sherlolly One-shot.


There she was. He could see her through the smudged glass panel in the door that led through to the lab from the office. He knew she would be there. He had memorised her shift rota so he knew when it was okay to come in asking for strange body parts. Or even just so he knew where she was, although he would never admit that.

It had only been two days since he had come to say good-bye to her, but it felt like a lot longer. He hadn't had the chance the day before, because he had been busy, being led around to see various officials and try a deduce all he could about what was happening with Moriarty.  
Everyone had seen the nationwide broadcast, but since no one but his close friends were meant to know he was gone in the first place, no one knew he had come back so quickly.

The only people he had been able to get word to were John and Mary, who were still at the runway when the plane landed back to where it had been 6 minutes and 33 seconds previously.  
That was exactly as long as Sherlock Holmes' exile had lasted. That was how long England could go without his presence to sort it out.

Molly was one of the first people he wanted to inform of the situation.

Lestrade, who he had told everything about his exile too, including how it would end, had already found out. He had been part of the team involved in trying to deal with the aftermath of Moriarty's come back, so he knew Sherlock was safe.

Everyone else would be easy to deal with, since they only though he was going away for a few months rather than forever, and their reactions could wait.

Molly's however, could not. He knew from past experience that leaving friends to believe you were dead for any longer than necessary was not a good idea, and seemed to result in a nosebleed.

However, there was what he said to her in their previous encounter to be considered. He had said those words expecting never to see her again.  
The feelings that had been insinuated behind them was something that he thought he would never have imagined before.  
It wasn't that he regretted these new feelings for Molly. They were pleasant enough, it was just they had caused him to say some things he might not have said had a death sentence not have been hanging over him.

Deciding that it would be better to get through with this as soon as he could, Sherlock pushed open the heavy door into the lab.

He had entered the room as quietly as he could, and she didn't look up from the samples she was working on.  
He stopped in the middle of the room, before saying loudly and clearly "Good morning, Molly."

She turned around swiftly.  
The first thing he noticed about Molly Hooper were her tired eyes. She had obviously had a lack sleep, less than 6- no 5- hours, and Sherlock had the ominous and slightly guilty feeling that it may be to do with him.

Molly blinked, as if uncertain of what or who, she was seeing. She raised her eyebrows.  
"Right. So assuming you are actually here, and I haven't lost it, would you like to explain?"

Sherlock nodded. "Moriarty." He explained. "I am needed." The few words told Molly everything she needed to know. Of course, who else could deal with the newly resurrected story-book villain.

"You certainly are needed." Her voice came out breathy, and Molly could feel waves of relief rushing over her.  
Relief that her detective was back, to order her to make coffee and provide him with body parts.  
To be beautiful and genius and humiliate her and her feelings completely.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, before correcting her. "I meant, I am needed by England."

"I know you did. That isn't what I meant though." Molly wasn't sure where these words were coming from. It wasn't like her to be so obvious in her words, but she couldn't stop them spilling over.  
"Sorry." She mumbled quickly, uncertain why she was sorry, but worried that she might have made the Detective uncomfortable.

"Why are you sorry?" He asked, confused.

"I'm not sure. I thought I might have said the wrong thing." She mumbled again.

"I don't think that's possible for you Molly Hooper. You always know exactly what to say to me. You always know everything."

"You're wrong." She countered. "I don't know what to say now. It's you who always knows everything."

"That's not true, either. For instance, I don't know about you, Molly. You confuse me. I'm not sure what to do with you. You make me feel. I'm not sure how, but you do." He continued.  
"As you know, I am a ridiculous man. I have friends, although they are few, and you are not one of them. You are entirely different. Something that requires it's own space and label and I cannot, for the life of me work out what that is, without considering something I dismissed long ago."

Molly gulped. She had a feeling she knew what was coming, and now she was nervous. She had imagined this situation so many times, with Sherlock declaring that her feelings for him were not one-sided, that he could possible feel the same way. And now faced with the actual situation, Molly found she was anxious.

"Well, for goodness sake, work out what it is out quickly. I have 4 more autopsies to do today." She told him, wanting the moment to be over.

"I- er, of course. I shall, and I will return when I have. For now, Molly Hooper, would you like me to make coffee?"

Molly smiled. "Milk and one sugar please."


End file.
